The Box
by mistakendragon815
Summary: Time away from Locke gives Ben time to think. Pre-"The End" fic


**Stuff: Well, I'm back after a huge break! This time I come with another Ben-related fic. I purposely mention his name once...if that makes any sense. Anyway, I was thinking, Lost is nearly over and the impression from "What they died for" was that Ben was turbing back into his old loveable Kill and Manipulate Everyone Mode ^_^. So here a short one based around that and also, about his time at the Temple when he was a child. I'm actually surprised that I haven't read a fic that involves that maybe Ben has a scar on his chest like Sayid. Coz it was hidden in season 3 every time we had a shirtless scene with Ben *drifts into fantasy***

...  
And i'm back, and here's what I came up with.

He stared upwards at the gleaming stars in the obsidian sky and pondered the last few days' events.

His shirt was tainted with the blood of his late leader and the dirt of the ground of his island home. His own blood comingled with that of others whom despised him, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything anymore. Charles was dead. Jacob was dead. Ilana was dead. And Juliet…Ben looked out towards Hydra Island across the sea and sighed. She was gone. Whether dead or just missing he did not know, but to him, she was gone.

There was only one person, well Thing, in his life now, and that was the creature possessing John Locke. Every time he came in contact, or was near the Smoke, a part of him reawakened from a deep slumber. It was like what little goodness he had inside him was suddenly overrun with greed and hunger for power and there was almost nothing he could do about it. It was like a drug! When he witnessed Richard being slammed by the monster, coherent thoughts of hope and destiny just melted away into oblivion. He knew where his place was finally. It was with this "monster".

Right now he was alone and had time to think about his next plan to kill his chosen victims and maybe have a bit of a clean while he was at it. The lack of closeness with the Smoke had no effect on him anymore since he had fully accepted what he was; A killer. Just like Sayid. Only Sayid was stronger to break free of the Darkness.

Unbuttoning his shirt downwards, he folded it across the branch he confided next to and staggered dazedly towards the inky waters of the sea. He cared little for his undershirt as he lifted it off his body and dropped it to the sandy floor. As he did remove his shirt though, the back of his hand grazed over a weathered burn scar that he received eons ago. Every few years he would take note of it in disgust but tonight, it brought out more emotions than disgust. It brought out anguish, hatred. Loathing! Dogan had done this to him as a precaution. As a routine. A routine that involved strapping a young teen to a stone slab, electrocuting him and burning him with a hot poker. He had failed this test but they allowed him a second chance to redeem him.

Why did he need redeeming when they were the sick minded? Who were they to take the innocence of a child? Wait… He blinked. This must be what Claire was thinking. Being so close to John had made her so venomous to the world around her. John WAS like a drug. Like a mindless obsession. But like all obsession, it must be stopped.

Rushing madly into the ocean, he slammed his body against the oncoming waves that were slaves of the moon as he was to the Monster. The freezing water of the night shocked his body right to the core. Wave after wave crashed into his half-exposed frame. If he caught pneumonia, it didn't matter. If he drowned, it didn't matter. All that mattered was following in Sayid's footsteps and breaking out of the manacles of evil.

A weight was finally lifted. Then suddenly a weight was thrown on him again. A physical weight, that is.

Hot and steel-gripped fingers latched onto his shoulder and waisted and threw him roughly into the soggy bank. As he struggled to get to his feet, the being clutched his throat tightly, forcing his head deep into the sand, and two punches collided with his eye before the person let go. "Get up Ben. You still have work to do."

John's voice was neither angry, but laced heavily with disappointment. He cringed as he lifted his body upright and followed his leader back into the jungle. The box that had begun to enclose all the dark feelings, exploded with full force. Razor sharp claws scrapped against his Cerebellum, shredding apart his freedom of rational thought. The Monster's presence was all he needed to overdose. He was going to be lost forever within John's clutches unless someone helped him.

He needed a miracle that was never going to come.

He was finally alone in the World. No enemies to kill him, no friends to comfort him.

It was just him.

Benjamin Linus.

**Well, please feel free to review, I'd honestly really appriciate it. And what are your thoughts on the finale (pre- and post- thoughts are welcome)**


End file.
